I know the stones in the river should move
Should evolve with the sparkling sand and gold
But I am still afraid in the nights
I walk backwards in fear to let it go
I know the clouds in my eyes shouldl move
Like fishes of light entangled in deep roots
They crossed once the gates of the moon
They looked for crumbles of blue
But I know I should face the ghost of my ghost
The mirror of myself
- a warrior or a wounded dove?
I know I was born in a night of storm
But my heart is yet not so strong
And I know I should leave for good
Take the train to the South with no return
Without fears I should travel
I should undress in the wagon
my wounds
And throw away in the desert
my bags
But I tremble in fears
I am still afraid in the dark
And again
I walk away from those tracks
Knowing that I should not
And I run once more
To the gates of the moon
Looking for droplets of love
looking for crumbles of blue
Hiding
Wishing silently to be at last
light
and no more to be afraid
of these nights
Poetry & Painting by Piccola D.